


A Little Held Up

by felypsa



Category: Marvel, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, Cute, Dinner, F/M, Fluff, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 03:24:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13802364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felypsa/pseuds/felypsa
Summary: Remy's got something special for Rogue's birthday. But of course he's running late to their date; Mr. Sinister's Marauders really do have the worst timing.





	A Little Held Up

**Author's Note:**

> Just an old fluffy Romy fic I wrote for a roleplay AU setting.

Remy made sure the package was secured safely in his coat as he turned a corner into a side alley, just barely glancing behind him with his peripheral vision to see if he was still being followed. A flash of shadowy movement confirmed that he was, and the Cajun shook his head as he leaped up to catch the fire escape ladder on the side of the building. Quickly and easily, the thief climbed up to the top of the roof, shading his eyes against the blood-orange sun as he faced west. He didn’t need a watch to tell him that he had to hurry.

His hand plunged into his coat to grab the hidden baton attached to his belt, extending it with a swift move at the same time as he ran toward the edge of the building. It was awkward to run in dress shoes and a nice suit; how did people like Warren get away with wearing this kind of get-up all the time? Regardless of the unusually upscale outfit he wore beneath his trench coat, Gambit jammed the butt of the staff into the roof and vaulted himself over the gap. Landing neatly, he took just a second to recover before he continued his run, sometimes making a roof leap without the staff. Eventually he had to pause, panting lightly as he looked up at his next obstacle: the clock tower.

The hands on the clock face were pointed toward him accusingly, as if they knew how close he was cutting it.

Remy smirked despite that and twirled the staff in his hand…before turning around to face his shadow. Or, more accurately, his five shadows. They had arrived swiftly and silently behind him, and now that he had a good look at them, he was hardly surprised by what he was seeing. Five of his former comrades: the Marauders, all fixing their evil-eyed glares on one poor, innocent Cajun. Gambit looked around at them all, quickly identifying them and recalling their unique powers. Harpoon, with his quiver of sharp metal spears; Prism, his crystalline body refracting the wild light of the sunset; white-haired Riptide, smirking angrily; Vertigo, whose long green hair half-covered her face as if she were shy, though Gambit knew she was anything but when it came to combat; and stocky Arclight, who was already cracking her knuckles as she stared almost hungrily at her former teammate.

They were one tough group of _couillons._

Remy glanced at the clock tower, did some quick math in his head, and spread his arms as he looked back at the Marauders. _“Mes amis,_ so good to see you again. Gambit did not realize we were having a reunion tonight, or he would have dressed better. Or maybe less better.”

“Can it,” Riptide snapped. “You know why we’re here, swampy. Did you really think you and your band of X-Fools would get away with what you did to the lab?”

The Cajun looked around at his foes, noting how they were all but quivering with hostility…but not without some uncertainty. Everything clicked in his head all at once, and he let out a loud, bellyaching laugh. “You don’ know where he is,” he said between chuckles. “Dat boss of yours fled wit’ his tail between his legs, and you don’ know where he is…and Gambit’s willing to bet he don’ know you’re here, threatening me.”

Funny, he wouldn’t have considered the X-Men’s raid on Sinister’s lab to be successful, since Sinister had slipped out and even some of the Marauders (the ones standing before him now) had been able to escape in the end, despite a severe thrashing. True, they had put a stop to Sinister’s current plans by destroying his lab, but for Gambit, it wasn’t a true victory until Sinister himself was put away forever. Or killed. He had to be honest, he would take “killed” as an acceptable alternative. Yet despite his frustration in that matter, he couldn’t help but feel savagely delighted at the sight of the Marauders without their leader, headless, picking fights by ganging up on a single X-Man.

“What makes you t’ink he even wants you to get rid of me? I was always one of his favorites, you know.” A fact that honestly made his skin crawl and filled him with a kind of nauseous shame, but now it came in handy with taunting his enemies. “Is dat why you’re really here, _mes amis?_ Envy’s not a good color on anyone…” he paused and looked over at green-haired Vertigo. “’Cept maybe you, _dame verte.”_

“I’m done listening to you.” Arclight’s tone was pure aggression, and she stepped forward, sending a shock wave straight for Remy. No doubt she hoped it would knock him off the roof, but he saw it coming a mile away and flipped out of its path, landing next to Harpoon. This was going to be a difficult fight, he realized, with all five of them going up against him, but he knew all of their strengths and weaknesses as well as his own. He knew that Harpoon would immediately attack him with one of his amped-up metal spears, so he could deflect it easily with his staff, giving it just a little charge to help it along. The staff hit Harpoon’s blade with explosive force, sending him rolling back with a cry. At the same time, Gambit threw a handful of charged cards at the rest of them, knowing that it would only be so long before Vertigo—

—slammed him with a nausea-inducing wave. He really hated that. Luckily, it meant that the other Marauders would have to stay behind her or else risk getting caught in her attack as well. The cards he threw exploded on the roof around Vertigo, causing her to stumble back and lose her concentration for a moment. Remy only had a moment to recover before Riptide was on him, a whirlwind of terrible force that flung those sharpened bone spikes of his. The only defense Gambit had was to spin his staff in front of him to deflect the shurikens that flew his way, but he could only do so much. He barely evaded one that whizzed past his face, and that unfortunately caused another to bury in his opposite shoulder. A hiss of pain left him.

“You can’t take us all at once,” Riptide laughed, moving even closer to him, trying to back him up toward the edge of the roof. “It’s high time we cut that ego of yours down to size.”

Remy had to pause, looking up from where the small calcium blade was embedded in his skin, and saw all five Marauders about to converge on him again. The former thief assessed everyone’s position before looking back at Riptide. “It amazes me dat, after all dis time, you still don’ know how to work as a team.” The corner of his lips pulled up in a smirk. “It’s a good t’ing I never showed you all my tricks.”

He reached into his coat and flung another wave of explosive cards at Riptide, who avoided them easily, in the process clearing some room in front of Remy. The cards exploded in front of Harpoon; meanwhile, Remy took advantage of the space in front of him and the distraction by running forward and using his staff to vault up and over the head of Prism, who shot a beam of blinding light in Gambit’s direction. The Cajun landed between Vertigo and Arclight, the latter having to fling up her hand in front of her eyes to protect against Prism’s glare. She cursed at her teammate, unable to fire a shock wave at Remy, who was already spinning his staff around and slamming the butt of it into Arclight’s solar plexus. The tough woman stumbled back slightly with a grunt.

Now cue Vertigo, who would rush to her teammate’s aid with her disorienting waves. Expecting that, Remy leaped over Arclight’s head while she was still blinded by Prism’s light and kicked her toward Vertigo. This time, a yell left her as she collapsed to her knees in front of Vertigo, who gasped but did not stop trying to aim her power at Gambit.

At the same time, Riptide and Harpoon were coming after him, the latter tossing several enhanced spears at him. Gambit ducked into a roll to avoid them, and, fighting the nausea and dizziness, popped up next to Vertigo. He swiftly grabbed her and spun her around, using her as a human shield against the attacks from her teammates. She struggled and flung her arms over her head as Riptide’s spikes cut her flesh. Riptide halted for a moment, allowing Remy to disable Vertigo with swift blows to her spine and the back of her head.

That meant that Arclight was getting up again, but Remy had been counting on that. Shoving Vertigo’s prone body to the side, he threw a few more cards down in front of Prism. The crystalline man could absorb as much light as he wanted, but he couldn’t do much about smoke. Under the cover of the explosion, Remy ran for Harpoon, engaging in one-on-one combat with him, Bo staff versus harpoon. All the same, the X-Man was paying attention to his surroundings, so when Arclight fired another blast in his direction, he spun around Harpoon and kicked him into the oncoming shock wave. Considering how much power the pissed-off Arclight put into it, it knocked Harpoon down with ease. Once he was down on the roof, Gambit returned to him and finished him off with a kick to the head.

Two down, three to go. And now they were even more frustrated at being bested by their least favorite smarmy Cajun.

Remy twirled his staff around in his hand again and faced the remaining Marauders with a knowing grin. “Shall we keep dancing, _mes amis?”_

\---------------------------------------------

He was very late. He had never had the chance to finish off the rest of the Marauders because the police finally arrived—Remy supposed that several explosions going off near the clock tower were enough to warrant people calling the authorities in a panic. Lucky for him, this meant that the Marauders had simply taken their wounded and left with a snarling warning to him. He would have to tell the other X-Men that they were still out there, leaderless without Sinister but just as nasty on their own. For now, wanting to avoid uncomfortable questions by the authorities and being blamed for the commotion, Gambit just scaled down from the roof and fled the scene, pocketing his staff and double-checking that his package was still securely in his coat.

As soon as he had made a certain escape, he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a couple of basic first-aid materials: sterile saline solution and some gauze. Leaning against the side of a building, unobserved, Remy sighed as he pried out the calcium spike that Riptide had managed to lodge in his shoulder. Blood welled up from the wound, and he grimaced; what a way to ruin a nice suit. He quickly shed his trench coat and suit coat before pulling back the undershirt to expose the wound. He pressed some of the gauze to clean up the immediate bleeding and then washed it with some of the saline, doing his best to clean the damn thing. Only when he had it wrapped up in gauze did he put his suit coat back on and toss the trench coat over his arm, jogging the last few blocks to his destination.

It took him another five minutes, by which time he was half an hour late. He paused outside the restaurant, took a few deep breaths, and checked his cell phone. The last text he’d sent (before his encounter with the Marauders) read, _Get ready to smile, chere. Remy’s on the way._ She had replied instantly, _Just shut up and get here, swamp rat._ Since then, there had been three more texts from her, one from when he was ten minutes late _(You’re losing your chance for a smile, Cajun),_ one from when he was twenty _(Just where are you on the way from, the moon? This ain’t cute anymore),_ and then one from just a couple of minutes ago _(I swear to God, Remy. Last chance)._ He hastily entered the restaurant, checking in with the hostess before firing off a quick text to her: _Look up, belle._

The fresh tear in his suit felt little out of place in this fine French establishment, but he became fully unaware of his own appearance when the hostess led him to the table where Rogue was sitting. Actually, she was already standing, phone in one hand and purse in the other, as if she’d been just about to storm out—but that just gave him an even better view of the breathtaking deep green dress she wore, the sweetheart neckline flattering her figure in an eye-popping way and the emerald tone complementing her skin tone perfectly. There was a reason green was her color. The smile that sneaked up Remy’s face was a natural reaction, stretching with an unprotected, almost dumbstruck affection as he ate up the beautiful sight before him and locked it away in his memory forever.

As promised, however, there was no smile from her to complete the ensemble.

She seemed to have read the text the moment he walked in, and her stormy gaze settled on him with a mixture of frustration and relief. Perhaps sensing the tension, the hostess quickly mentioned something about their waiter being there soon, laid a menu on the table in Remy’s spot, and made a hasty exit. He hardly paid attention to her, closing the distance between him and Rogue with a dreamy stroll, as if something else were moving his legs for him. Before he could open his mouth to say anything, Rogue pointed a gloved finger up in his face angrily.

“Just so we’re clear, swamp rat: th’ only thing stoppin’ me from slappin’ that damn smirk off yer face right here is the fact that I don’t wanna make a scene. But if you open your mouth and a pile of steamin’ hot bullshit comes out, I don’t mind draggin’ you out back to make good on my…” She trailed off, suddenly noticing the tear in the suit and some of the damp liquid that stained it. Her gaze settled on it for a long moment before flickering back up to Remy’s face. “That blood?” she demanded, her harsh tone somewhere between annoyance and worry.

None of this had done anything to diminish the love-dumb look in Gambit’s eyes, so when Rogue drew attention to his wound, he blinked once and reluctantly looked away from her face to study the area in question. “Dis? Just a little scrape, chere, nothing dat hurts. Den again, how can I t’ink of pain wit’ dis vision of beauty in front of me?”

Rogue’s face instantly flushed from the compliment and, no doubt, the inappropriate timing of the compliment. No matter what, Remy always reveled in his ability to bring that expression to her face. “Would it kill ya to quit yer flirtin’ for just one damn second and answer the question? What happened, Remy?”

He exhaled and pulled out the chair to slide into it, finding his mini-adventure that had just taken place a lot less interesting than the woman before him and the date he had been looking forward to. “De Marauders, de ones dat fled from de lab, tried to get some payback. Don’ worry, _chere,_ Remy’s fine and took care of dem, though dey escaped before de police could take ’em away for good. Dey weren’t working wit’ Essex—seem to know about as much as we do about his whereabouts.” He shrugged as he picked up the menu, his smile returning. “Don’t let it ruin your evening, _chere._ It’s still your birthday, and Remy’s not goin’ anywhere till he gets dat smile.”

The corners of Rogue’s lips seemed momentarily willing to give him that already, but she pushed them down with a frown as she inspected his wounded shoulder for a few more seconds. “Damn Marauders,” she muttered, clenching her gloved hands into tight fists. “I wish some of ’em were dumb enough to follow you here. I’d like to show ’em what I think about them makin’ you late to my birthday dinner.” She finally relaxed enough to sit down opposite him, though she didn’t touch her menu. “You’ve got some catchin’ up to do, swamp rat. I’m already half a bottle of wine in just waitin’ for ya. The expensive wine, too.” She looked at him pointedly, since they both knew that she wasn’t going to be the one paying for the evening.

Remy eyed the bottle in question with a small laugh. “Won’t take me long, chere, trust me.” He put the menu down and reached across the table, delicately taking her right hand and uncurling those fingers. “Happy birthday, _ma belle,”_ he murmured, bringing her hand up to his lips for a gallant kiss. “Have I mentioned you’re de most beautiful woman in dis entire restaurant? I’m goin’ to have trouble eating de meal because it will be too hard to take my eyes off of you.”

True to his word, he kept his gaze on her face as she softened her expression, using her free hand to push away a white strand of hair and tuck it behind her ear while her other hand squeezed his. “Dumb Cajun,” she said, not without affection. “You think I wanna sit here and listen to ya try to flatter the hell out of me all night just ’cause it’s my birthday?” Finally, her lips curled upward in a small smile, and she locked her eyes with his. “’Cause if that’s yer plan, you’re about half an hour behind.”

Rogue’s coy, borderline shy way of flirting never failed to delight him. It had taken a long time for her to stop batting away his compliments like they were mosquitoes and accept the fact that he praised her out of genuine emotion, not out of vapid charm, and furthermore, that it was all right to let herself be admired. To see her not only smile, but also reciprocate, even in such a subtly encouraging way—it was heaven, a piece of paradise that Remy would be a complete idiot to mess up or give away. “Believe me, _chere,_ Remy plans on making every second count.”

He caught a twinkle of amusement in her eyes as she pulled away. “Damn right you should, sugah.”

They were able to get back on track after that. The promised waiter came around to collect their orders, and they drank the wine and laughed (after Rogue insisted on a play-by-play retelling of Gambit’s fight with the Marauders, and her expression alternated between fiercely triumphant and exasperated with what was clearly a dramatic embellishment on his part) and ate the delicious gourmet food when it arrived (Rogue all but choking in disbelief when Remy claimed that the rich meal was only “decent,” and that he could have done better with a more traditional Cajun recipe) and drank more and laughed more. However, not even on Rogue’s birthday could Gambit avoid a projectile (luckily for him, just a balled-up napkin that smacked him lightly, because anything denser than that would have made a dent in his face if she’d been using her full strength), but he made up for it when he caught her glass of wine in midair when she accidentally elbowed it off the table, preventing a devastating spill (“Not one word, Cajun”). The two of them couldn’t help but feel a little mischievous and a little childish for acting so carefree in the somber atmosphere of the restaurant—but it didn’t matter, because moments like these were so rare, and by virtue of that rarity, they had to treasure them, hold them against their hearts as more valuable than precious gems.

It was while they were waiting for dessert (because of course they were getting dessert) that Gambit finally reached for his trench coat and pulled out the long but slim rectangular box he’d carefully brought with him and shielded from the Marauders’ ill-timed vendetta. He wore a wide smile as he slid it across the table, watching Rogue’s eyes widen slightly before they narrowed on him. “I thought I said no presents,” she said accusingly. “This dinner’s been more’n enough, Remy.”

He gave her a blasé smile. “Just open it, _ma belle.”_

She seemed suspicious, but also curious, and the battle in her head was short-lived as she pried the cover off the box and gently pushed aside the tissue paper. Remy watched carefully as surprise flared across her face at the sight of the glittering diamond pendant within, and her mouth dropped open slightly as she stared at it and then at him. “What the hell is this?” she asked, not rejecting it, not angry with it—but needing more context to determine what exactly she was looking at.

Remy continued to smile as he leaned forward. “When we first met, _chere,_ Remy was a t’ief. Still is, sometimes,” he winked, since sometimes the X-Men went on missions that required a little rule-bending, “but back den, I was much worse. I stole dat precious t’ing because it was an easy job, and I needed money,” he confessed, gesturing toward the necklace. Rogue’s suspicious glare was back, but fortunately she didn’t interrupt him. He went on, “But before I sold it, I got drawn into my first fight next to you and de other X-Men. De Juggernaut was trashin’ de city, and it just didn’t make sense for Gambit to sit dat one out.” It hadn’t been the first time he’d ever interacted with the X-Men, but it was the first time most of them had seen his potential and fighting style…Rogue included. “At de end of de fight, when everyone was tired and patchin’ ’emselves up, you looked at me wit’ dat gorgeous crooked smile of yours and said, ‘Ya ain’t half bad, swamp rat. Maybe the professor’s right, you’re meant fer somethin’ greater after all.’”

At this, Rogue let out an embarrassed snort, shaking her head. “I remember that, sugah. And you said somethin’ stupid along the lines of, ‘Remy won’t argue with that, chere, if somethin’ greater means a kiss from you.’”

Remy’s grin widened. “Your Cajun accent is _terrible,”_ he said, pronouncing the last word with a French accent. “But yes, it was somet’ing like dat.” His smile turned sly. “You can’t say I was wrong about dat, _chere.”_

She scoffed, but he saw the slight reddening of her cheeks anyway. “There a point to this story, darlin’?” she asked, shifting the attention back to him.

 _“Oui._ It might not have seemed like it at de time, but you gave me a lot to t’ink about dat day…and instead of fencing de necklace, I broke back into de store and put it back where it was. I don’ even t’ink it was even missed.” He pointed at the necklace now. “Now dat necklace is yours, and I bought it fair and square. T’ink of it as a symbol for de way you’ve changed me, _chere._ Stuck wit’ me all dis time, made me better.”

That made Rogue stare at him as the heavy implication hit her and slowly sunk in. “Remy…” She swallowed. “Ya don’t owe that much t’ me. You were always capable of bein’ better on your own, it ain’t like I waved my magic wand and turned you into a different man. Ya don’t…ya don’t have to do this…” Her eyes drifted down to the necklace, and she shook her head. “Jesus, this looks expensive. You sure ya didn’t steal it?”

He should have expected some rejection of the notion, but he didn’t feel too rattled by it. Instead, he chuckled at her question. “Got the receipt if you really want.” He stood up and walked around to her side, carefully picking up the diamond necklace from the box. “Wort’ every penny,” he told her, reaching over to drape it around her neck. She stiffened only slightly, as she still did with any proximity to her bare skin, but she sat still as he delicately avoided touching her neck in the act of linking the necklace under her hair. He could not resist a small kiss to the top of her head before stepping back to admire how it all fit together.

The necklace shone like a star, made more beautiful by the virtue of the woman who was wearing it. During the whole process, Rogue had not resisted, and she now looked down at the precious pendant. It was easily the most expensive piece of jewelry anyone had given her, and not like she cared about that kind of thing, but the fact that Remy had striven to get it for her the legal, moral way, all because of something she’d supposedly said in a post-battle haze years ago…it made the diamonds even more valuable in her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she deserved it, but she’d reached the point where she knew better than to shove it away just because she couldn’t quite shake that uncomfortable instinct, which hadn’t exactly been helped by the fact that her and Remy’s relationship was never a fairy tale. Instead, she looked up at him, giving a small smile that could not have possibly expressed the emotions rolling around in her. “Hell, sugah, if I’d known you were willing to spend this much money on me, I would’ve asked for a car. Somethin’ classic and old-school.”

Remy gave a laugh as he moved back to his seat. He could tell she was still a little shocked over the gift, but he wasn’t going to push it. He’d told her the significance, and she was wearing it, and in that moment, he couldn’t ask for more. “How ’bout I steal you one?” he joked. “We’d make de perfect team. I steal de junkers, and you fix dem up good as new again, and we turn and sell dem for a collector’s price. Bet we could turn quite a profit, _non?”_

Rogue scowled at him playfully. “Yeah, I can see I made a real big difference in the way ya are,” she said dryly, shaking her head again. But she couldn’t help lifting the pendant off her chest and looking at it directly, turning it this way and that and admiring the genuine way the light reflected off the perfectly cut stones. “Ya realize I’m almost never gonna wear this, right? I mean, not if we’re going to continue our life of kickin’ in the teeth of bad folks like the Marauders.”

Gambit nodded, undisturbed by this. “Dat’s fine wit’ me, chere. We’ll keep it somewhere safe—leave it to me.” Only a thief knew the best ways to thief-proof a valuable item. “I figure you can wear it whenever you feel like bein’ nice to me for a night. You know I don’t expect dat very often to begin wit’.”

“Oh, don’t even start, swamp rat!” Rogue laughed. “Don’t act like yer the victim here—I’m the one that has t’ put up with your cheesy one-liners and you bein’ late all the time! Sure, it was the Marauders this time, but next time it might’s well be you takin’ too long in the shower to keep up yer ‘perfect’ complexion.”

“You like my perfect complexion, _chere,”_ he returned immediately. “I only keep it up for your sake, and you’re hard to please.”

“Oh, fer—” Rogue scoffed and stood up, gesturing to him to do the same. “C’mere, Cajun.” He stood up as well, and Rogue fished in her purse for her silky handkerchief that she’d brought just for this occasion, sparing a quick thought of annoyance and regret that she had to slow the moment down, but it was ultimately worth it. She looked up at Gambit and, ignoring the prickling feeling that some of the restaurant’s patrons and staff might be looking at them curiously, pressed the handkerchief against his mouth, her own lips quickly following. The thin material was necessary to protect him from being knocked on his ass (and her having to carry him home), but it didn’t stop her from swooning as their soft lips meshed together, conveying the deep emotion and passion they held for each other despite everything else that clawed and plucked away at their relationship. She even let the moment carry further than she normally would in public, as Remy’s eyes slipped closed and he reached around to brace his hand against the small of her back, letting the kiss go on and on, as long as they both dared.

As birthdays went, Rogue had to reflect that this was a pretty damn good one. And they hadn’t even had dessert yet.


End file.
